Use the dark orb to swell those rotten dreams into a mist so pure and tangible it’s as tasteful as it is unknowingly poisonous.
Breed them, multiply the law of three seven fold then behold the birth of many treasons.
Forgive them in lies to earn their trust and burn them. Burn their dreams and twist, contort and turn them. Find them subscribed in devious times, walking each black, faded bloody line.
mine, mine, mine.
Copyright G.P Williamson 2015